Sector Forty Four
by arya-starkles
Summary: [BEING HUMAN ZOMBIE AU] After the death of Annie's fiancé, Owen, she's forced to take on his role as the leader of Sector 44. Annie's barely making it through, but she's doing the best she can. Her job only gets harder when a handsome stranger, Mitchell, strolls in, asking to join them. Little does she know that she's opened herself up to a whole 'nother world.
1. Chapter 1 - Handsome Stranger

On the two year anniversary of the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, Annie's world had left her—it was ripped, and chewed and swallowed gone. Her fiancé, Owen, died that day, September 23rd, by a hoard of silent zombies. Those were the worst kinds, the ones that you could never hear. One minute you think you're safe hiding behind something then you turn around and _boom, _you're dead—that's _creepers _for you. She didn't just lose the love of her life that day, she lost a friend, and she lost a leader. Owen was the leader of their group, _Sector 44, _a small little group on the outskirts in Bristol. It was better there, she supposed, living in the outskirts of the country rather than living in the cities, beneath the foot of corrupted and greedy governments.

When he died, she had to assume his role as leader. The rest of them accepted it, and they didn't question it, really, since they had her as his second-in-command for a while. Annie didn't plan on this ever happening, she didn't _know _how to take care of sixty-five people. She didn't know how to split the food rations, or the health packs, or the bunks. It was hard at first, but they helped her along the way, fully understanding where her frustrations were coming from.

It was good having them there—a family of misfit survivors.

She wished she could see her old family, though.

The day in which he died was etched into her mind in horrid and vivid detail. It began with Owen saying, out of the blue, that he, along with some others, were going to check out what was happening in _Kael Bay. _Annie had told him not to, it was too dangerous, and they didn't know _what _was lurking there. They had lost contact with their friends over there about a week ago, what if the same fate befalls them? She would never forgive herself.

And she never has.

He had promised her that he would keep radio contact throughout the mission. He told her there was nothing to be worried about, it was a standard fetch and search quest, but she _still _didn't like the idea of it. It didn't really matter if she fought against it, he would go anyway. And she didn't feel like fighting with him. He kept to his word, giving Annie and Rhys—their radio guy—constant updates. Nothing much was there, no signs of bodies or blood anywhere, it was almost like they had just vanished. Annie chewed her lip as she turned left and right on the swivel chair. Rhys, who was beside her, kept a careful eye on her, occasionally telling her that it was going to be alright.

Annie leapt from her chair when the radio cut out.

"Can't you _fix _it?" she said to Rhys who was fussing over the controls.

"I'm _trying, _but he isn't responding."

"I knew this was going to happen!" Annie mumbled, chewing her fingernails nervously.

"I'm sure it's just a malfunction, he'll come back in a bit, okay?"

It was then, when she heard a crackling static. Bits of sound were being cutting in and out, but she managed to figure out what some of the sounds were. It sounded like fighting and groaning, and pleas. Annie's cheeks went white and she doubled back. Rhys put down the headphones and grabbed her before she could fall back.

"We're being attacked by a group of maybe fifteen, twenty zombies. They're out numbering us, and we don't have enough ammo to get them all." Owen cried out. Annie could vaguely hear the sound of moaning coming from the speaker. Annie gulped and sat back on the chair, bringing the microphone to her lips.

"Owen?" she called out. "I'll send back-up for you, okay? You guys will be okay—just hold on tight!"

"_No_," he said simply, and that shocked her.

"What? No! I'm not letting you die!"

"There's too many, and we're too far from the base. It'll be useless and a waste of men. We'll fight them off as much as we ca—hey! Back off!" She heard Owen yell when he finished talking, and it sent prickles up her spine. Annie wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and throw things. After that, it was radio silence. Rhys caught her before she could go nuts. Bringing her in closer and shushing her as her tears soaked his tattered _Star Wars _shirt. Annie screamed out, but it was muffled.

Someone must've heard her crying, and they rushed in. Beth, a slender, nineteen year old girl, stopped at the door and looked at Rhys, who just shook his head and lowered his eyes. Beth covered her mouth with her palms and let out a shaky breath. Everyone loved Owen, some maybe not as much as others, but he was still valuable and known, and they shared in her pain in the coming weeks.

It was an unbearable pain, and she wished it was her who had died with him. They won't get married now. They promised each-other that _if _this ends, and _if _they come out of this alive, they'll get married and start again. Knowing Owen, though, it probably wouldn't have happened anyway. He was always putting it off even _before _the virus spread through. They were engaged a good year before it happened, and every time she suggested a date, he shot it down, saying that it wasn't the right time to get married, something about stress at work, or money, or the _time of the year. _A girl could still dream though, even if it was a silly dream at that.

But Annie couldn't grieve forever, she had over sixty people to look after, and she would have to make someone her new second-in-command. It took her a while until she chose who would be her second, but she eventually decided on Lucy, a woman of almost thirty, she was a curvy, blonde haired girl with gleaming blue eyes. You wouldn't have thought her to be almost thirty, as she had a youthful face, but she was wise and smart beyond her years, and that was perfect for Annie.

Annie needed to check out a house not far from camp, someone ticked her off about it being recently abandoned. Maybe she can salvage something from there. She needed to find some medication, and if she was lucky enough, some cards. That was the currency in this _New Age—_cards, fuel, and medication. Medication could be traded in for supplies because of how high in demand they were, and how _rare _they were. The cards could range from anything like food, to clothes, to water. They were mostly used in government run sectors, but they weren't all that uncommon in the outer-parts. You didn't have to trade in fuel, but you could. Often, people would just take the fuel they find and use it, but you can always buy it in exchange for something else.

Annie approached the house. "Alright, I'm here. Are you sure I'm clear?"

Rhys paused, making a humming sound. "Yeah, it looks clear on my end."

"Are you _sure_?" she asked again.

"_Yes, _it's clear. Now, get in and do what you do best."

Annie chuckled as she bent down, preparing to pick the lock. "And what is it exactly that I _do_?"

He laughed awkwardly, and she could almost see him nervously scratching the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his young face. "You know…the _thing_."

Annie shook her head. "You're lucky you're cute, Rhys."

"Aw, shucks, my love."

Annie poked her tongue on in concentration. She was an alright lock-picker, two years of breaking into places really helps you out. Luckily, the lock didn't break, and it opened nicely.

"I'm in."

"You're not in a spy movie, Annie."

"Eh," she shrugged as she stepped inside. "We're sort of _are _in a spy movie when you think about it. Only, we have zombies to sneak past rather than agents."

He sighed. "That we are. Look, just get in and out of there, yeah? This area is known for having _creepers _around, y'know?"

"_Wait,_" she stopped. "There could be _creepers _here? And you didn't tell me?"

"Don't blame me, I thought you knew."

"Well, this is just dandy, isn't it?"

"I can still send some back-up for you; it'll only take them, like, fifteen minutes to get there. If you just wait there, I can send Danny and Ethan ou—"

"_Relax,_" she breathed out. "I'll be fine. Plus, Danny and Ethan are busy in the weapons room. I'm not going to disturb them for a simple salvage quest."

"I highly doubt that," he mumbled, "but whatever you say."

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to need radio silence, yeah? Just while I look around."

He gasped. "And here I thought we were having fun."

"Don't push it, Warner."

As if he was a five year old boy, he mumbled: "I hate when you say my last name."

Annie turned off the radio and pressed forth towards the kitchen. It was empty, and it looked like whoever was there last left in a rush. There were mattresses lying on the floor of the kitchen, and she saw that it spread out to the living room. _Big group, _she figured. _But why did they leave in such a rush? And why did they leave their things here?_

Annie searched high and low for something. Every drawer, every cupboard, but there wasn't anything she could bring back, unless everyone wanted some rotting food and items of dirty, blood-stained clothing. Annie trotted up the stairs, and the pictures on the wall caught her eye. It was of a family; a mother, a father, a daughter and a son, looking happy in their family photo. The engraving below it said that it was taken a year before the virus came through. _Tragic, _she thought.

The medicine cabinet in the bathroom had a box in there; she grabbed it and opened it up. In the, fairly big, blue box, she saw that it had antibiotics, bandages, disinfectant, and various other medical supplies. Turning on her radio again, she spoke.

"Ding, ding, ding, guess who hit the jackpot?" she chimed through, almost scaring the death out of Rhys on the other line.

"Jesus Christ, Annie," he breathed out. "I almost dropped my cig."

Annie ignored that. "I found a box full of medical supplies. I think we can trade these in later. I don't know how much of it will help us, but we'll see."

"That's lovely. Have you checked everywhere else?"

"I've been to the kitchen and to the up-stairs bathroom. Damn, Rhys, it's freaky in here."

"Why's that?" she heard him say, hearing the crackling sound of a lighter.

"Everything has been boarded up, they have mattresses _everywhere, _there's rotten food lying around, and it seems like they all left in a rush. Oh, and I feel like someone's looking over my shoulder. It's so _creepy, _Rhys."

"Do you want to get out of there?"

"Eh, not just yet. I'll check the bedrooms; see what I can find in there."

"Alright," he said reluctantly. "You're still clear on the scanner, so, that's a plus."

"Thanks."

Annie rushed to the bedroom to her left. The door creaked open, like it would in a horror movie. A chill went down her spine, but she stepped through the door. The bedroom was littered with guns and boxes of ammo. She felt like a little girl during Christmas.

"There's a room in here that's full of guns and ammo, Rhys."

"Holy shit, really? Is there too much for you to carry?"

"_Waaay _too much," Annie replied, smiling slightly. They've been having a shortage in guns and ammo lately. So, this was great to see.

"Shall I send the team down now?"

"Yes, please."

"Aye, ay—wait, no. Uh, Annie?"

"Yes?"

"You should get out of there, uh, there's about six _zoms _coming close to the house. You can probably fight them off yourself, but a word of warning."

"Shit," she muttered. "Now, of _all _times."

"I know," he sighed. "We'll send the team in when it's cleared, okay?"

"Okay, I'm heading out now. Tell me where to go."

Rhys hummed and made a click sound with his tongue. "The base is south, but the fuckers are coming in from the south, east and west sides of your location. You should head up north for a bit, then head east, and then head back down south."

"How will I know when to turn?"

"Whenever you see a clearing in the path. Tell me when you're about to change, and I'll check if it's clear. I don't know _what _kind of _zoms _you're dealing with, but be careful, yeah?"

"Will do."

She jogged out of the house, and she could hear the moans coming from the angles that Rhys told her about. _Thank God. _So far, the noises she heard were coming from the _classics. Classics _were the zombies that everyone knows about; they move slowly, they moan really loudly. Annie was thankful that it wasn't a _runner, _or a _screecher, _or a _creeper. _But it was too early to be totally sure.

Annie saw two of them heading from the south, and she began running north. After running for about two minutes, she began to develop a cramp in her calf. Cursing for not stretching, she pressed on through the next crossing.

"I'm heading east." She declared, and Rhys gave her the all clear.

Annie could see them following her, now she could see about six or seven of them.

"I have to take them out, don't I?"

"Unless you want to bring them back to camp, or if you want to run away from them until they give up, then yeah, you'll have to take care of them."

Groaning, Annie flung her backpack over so it rested on her chest, and—still running—she grabbed her gun and spun around, trotting backwards as she aimed at their heads. One by one, she fought them off, getting head shot after headshot.

"It looks clear now," Rhys announced. "You should be alright to come through now."

Annie panted. "Thank God."

"Oh, and uh, you'll probably want to come here quickly."

"Why? Don't tell me there's another group coming."

"No," he quickly said. "There's a man out here, by the gates, who wants to join us or something. He looks sketchy, and we don't know what to do with him. So, you'll need to take a look at him and decide since you're the leader and everything."

"Don't remind me." Annie muttered. "What are you guys doing with him now?"

"Uh, _well,_" he began, "I can see him standing outside the gates, with his hands up. And I can see Tony and Zach pointing their guns at him, so, yeah, that's that, I suppose."

"Alright, keep him by the gates. I'll deal with him. _Don't _shoot him just yet."

Annie pressed on, despite the cramp still throbbing in her leg. When she reached the gates, she saw a tall man waiting outside with his hands up in the air defensively while Tony and Zach kept a close eye on him. The man had sweat on his face, and the light made it shimmer. His curly hair was damp, too. Annie jogged the rest of the way and waved her hand. Annie heard the gates beginning to creak open. It usually took a bit to open them, so it was a good opportunity to quickly speak to the stranger.

"Can I help you?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Yeah, hopefully," he said, his thick Irish accent echoed in her ears.

"How can we help you, Mr—"

"—Mitchell," he said. "John Mitchell, but everyone just calls me Mitchell. I would shake your hand, but I'm afraid that if I move my hands, they'll shoot me."

Annie looked up to the wall and saw Tony and Zach still aiming. She waved her arms around, and they held back, putting away their weapons. "That should help."

They shook hands, and hers was sweaty. She felt almost embarrassed as she wiped it off on the side of her pants.

"So, are you the leader around here or what?"

"Yes," she stood up straighter. "I am."

"Good," he smiled. "I was hoping to talk to you about joining you guys."

Annie eyed him for a moment, wondering what he could bring to their sector. Everyone there had to pull their weight somehow or they were useless. There were exceptions, however, for children and babies, which there were a handful in _Sector 44. _

Annie turned on her heel and began walking into the camp. "Follow me, Mr. Mitchell." He gladly and quickly followed behind her as they walked through the crowd of people who all whispered and pointed to the stranger. Mitchell nodded to a few people, and made a few of the teenage girls blush. Annie rolled her eyes and opened the door to her office.

"In here, thanks." He shuffled inside and she closed the door. Annie stepped around his chair and sat in hers, resisting every urge to slouch down and relax. She sat up and leaned in, her hands locked in with each other.

"So, I'm Annie, and I run things here at _Sector 44._"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Annie." He grinned, and she felt her throat tighten.

"So, Mr. Mitchell," she began. "Everyone here does something—they all need to pull their weight or else they're useless to us, and we're unable to keep them here. If you want to seek refuge here, or whatever it is you want from us, then you'll have to tell me what you can do before I can even _consider _bringing you in. What _can _you do for us, Mitchell?"

Mitchell sighed as he thought about his answer. "I'm a good and fast runner, so I can gather things. I won't kill you if I were to cook. I'm pretty handy when patching people up. And I'm _very _good with a gun."

Annie leant back, eyeing him again. That was a nice list of traits, but she didn't know if they were correct or not. Chewing her lip, she thought, but she seemed to have thought too long as he raised his eyebrow up, shaking his head.

"Those _do _seem like good skills to have around here. But I'll have to see you in action. I don't usually do this, but I guess I can give you trial run. Four days, that's what I'll give you. Four days to prove to not only me, but to everyone else, that you'll be an asset to us."

"I won't disappoint you." He said as he stood up to shake her hand once again.

"I'll show you to the barracks, and you can get set up there. Do you have any bags with you, or any belongings?"

"I _did, _but your people took it from me when I showed up." He shrugged sadly.

"I'll have them sent to you. Follow me, and I'll show you to your room."

He followed close behind her again, and they ignored the stares they received. Annie didn't know what the fuss was about; they weren't usually like that when people came through. Maybe it was because he was a handsome stranger who screamed danger and excitement. The girls around here love that kind of stuff. Annie was worried about that being a distraction, but she was sure that they could keep it to themselves.

Oh, who was she kidding? Those girls will latch onto him like a leech at summer-camp.

Annie opened the door to the barracks, and Mitchell went through.

"Here we are," she said. "Now, everyone wakes up at six-thirty in the morning, and they're expected to be ready to do their work at seven-thirty. Up on that wall is a list of chores that everyone has—it gets updated every week. I'll get them to quickly put you up for something while you're on your trial, okay? If you need anything, just give either Zach or Tony a yell."

"That'll end well." Mitchell laughed.

"_Yeah_, now that I think about it, it's probably best if you keep it all to yourself."

"Can't I just come to _you_ if I need something?"

Annie paused. "We don't really work like that, but since it's your trial, I guess I can make an exception to the usual rule. Oh, and as a warning, I'll have eyes and ears on you during your trial, so if you do anything shady, they'll tell me. And after the four days are up, I'll have a talk with you to see how you felt."

"Is that everything?" he chuckled as he climbed up to the top bunk.

"Yeah, should be."

"Who's that?" A voice asked—it was Rhys.

"That's Mitchell—the guy who was at the gates."

"You've _already _let him in?!"

"Relax, Rhys," she sighed. "He's on a trial period. He might stay here, or he might not stay here. It's only for a few days."

"Please don't tell me he's sleeping on this bunk?"

"Yeah," Annie drew in a sharp breath, not taking in the thought that Rhys would be sharing the bunk with him—Rhys wasn't very fond of sharing, especially with people he didn't even know.

"I guess we're roomies, then, eh?" Mitchell grinned, and Rhys sighed heavily, turning to Annie, giving her the stink-eye.

Rhys walked passed Annie, but stopped to whisper in her ear. "If he tries anything, I'll make sure Tony and Zach take care of it."

"You don't have authorization to do that, Rhys." she smirked.

"They'll do it anyway," he paused, looking up to Mitchell. "I'm sure they'll do it in a heartbeat." Rhys slinked away to the door, calling out Beth's name.

Annie turned to Mitchell before leaving.

"Have fun, Mitchell." Annie said.

"Oh, I'll certainly try." He said, but then he smiled. "Thanks for letting me in, Annie."

Annie felt a flush spread through her chest, so she left before he could notice it.


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcome To The Family

It was way past midnight, and she couldn't sleep whatsoever. _Funny, _she thought, remembering the times in which she would find Owen in her place, fumbling around with important documents and contracts, stressing out about whatever he was trying to figure out. And when she would find her bed empty, she would walk up behind him, the blanket resting on her shoulders like a cloak, and she would hug him, snuggling her head in his back, murmuring things like: "come back to bed, baby." Or, "what's troubling you? Maybe I can help." All she wanted then was for someone to come up behind her and do the same thing, to reassure her, to bring her down back to the ground. But she had no one now, no one but the silence and the darkness.

Annie looked back, as though doing that would pluck someone from thin air. It didn't work, though, so she turned back and breathed out heavily, trying to steady herself as her head spun. She buried her head in her arms, crying out in frustration and in anger. Not too loud, though, she didn't want to wake everybody with her moping. _Stop crying, stop crying. Please stop crying. _Wiping her eyes as she looked back up, she thought she saw someone standing in the doorway, but she couldn't see who. Part of her wished it was Owen standing there, but she didn't know for certain.

"Owen?" she whispered, wiping her eyes once more.

"No, it's me." Mitchell said, stepping into the light, revealing some of his face. He didn't look like he had just gotten out of bed. _Odd, _she thought. _Maybe he was making his rounds around the camp? No, he couldn't do that. You're not allowed out by this time. _Annie had almost forgotten about him, she had enough to worry about, anyway. It was his last day today, so she would have to make her choice by the end of the day. _Lovely, more work. _

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"I was wandering around—I couldn't sleep."

"Really?" she raised her eyebrow. "No one is allowed to wander around the camp at this time of night—we have security all around. How did you get past them?"

"When you've lived as long and as much as I have, you know how to sneak past a few rookie guards."

"Those guys were in the military for years before the _zoms _came in. I wouldn't be so quick to label them as rookie. Anyway, is there anything you need?" Annie rubbed her temples. _Make this quick, please. _

"I was just passing by, and I thought I heard crying. I got worried, so I decided to check up on you. Apparently you've been under a lot of stress lately, so I just figured you might've needed someone to talk to or something."

"That's sweet of you, thanks. I'm guessing they told you what happened?"

"Yeah, they did." He said, stepping closer as he rubbed his arm, shrugging absently. "I'm really sorry to hear that."

"It's okay," she breathed out deeply, rising from her seat. Thank god it was dark; she didn't want him to see how her lip was quivering, if only she could control it. Grieve when it was appropriate, and hide it when it wasn't. "He's gone now, and I can't do a single bloody thing about it." Annie had some papers in her hand, but she threw him back down, gulping as she put her hand on her forehead. "I'm such a mess. I'm sorry you had to see that. I need to learn how to suck it up and deal with it, yeah?"

"Annie," he whispered, stepping closer again. His hand rose, as if he was going to comfort her, but he didn't. "He was your fiancé; no one is expecting you to _get over it _anytime soon. It's been a few weeks, right? It's still a raw wound. It's okay to not be okay. I know for a fact that everyone here would understand." Annie looked up at him, and even in the dark, she saw his apologetic expression. She's seen it all before, the apologies aren't going to bring him back, and she wished that everyone would just _quit _saying it. For anything, it just made it worse, always bringing it up. _What are they sorry for? They didn't kill him. _"Look, if you need to talk to someone, I'm always here for you. Just give me a yell, and I'll listen to what's on your mind."

"You haven't even been accepted, yet."

"Nah, I haven't," he shrugged. "But if it happens, it happens."

"You sound a little too cocky."

"What can I say? I'm a people pleaser."

Annie shook her head, smiling as she wiped another tear from her eye. There was a silence for a moment before he nodded his head, saying goodbye and heading for the door. She stopped him just before he could leave.

"Hey Mitchell?" she called out softly. His head rose. "Thanks, I appreciate the offer." His eyes flicked down, and when he looked up, he gave her a thin smile—it was a sad one, with sad eyes and a sad cause. The door closed, and she was alone again.

Annie grabbed the brown, leather backed notebook from her drawer and a pen. The book was special to her. Her mother gave it to her when she was seventeen, during a rough patch in her life.

"Whenever you feel sad," she remembered her mother saying as she handed her the new and empty book. "Just write in the book—whatever you want, whatever you're feeling. When you think everything is crashing down around you, I want you to climb out from the rubble and grab the book and write in it. No one will see it, unless you want them to, and it'll be all yours."

Annie flicked it open to a fresh page and she began scrawling down the time and how she was feeling—and for this moment, she wrote it as a poem. It came over her like a wave, so she was quick to write it all down messily, before the words vanished from her fingers.

_**2:35**_

_Watch, my love, as our little Eden falls beneath me, away from my control._

_(Watch as the ground crumbles beneath my feet, thrusting me down to the underworld.)_

_Watch, my love, as my sanity slips from my slippery fingers, and drops into oblivion._

_(Reach in, and get sucked into the void, that's all I want.)_

_Watch, my love, as I slowly become like you, with each passing day._

_(Remember when you were driven to insanity by our little Eden?)_

_Watch, my love, as I slowly die with you. _

_Our little Eden has killed us both._

She closed the book when was done with it, not bothering to read it back right now. She didn't really do that, she liked how raw it felt when she would read it later on—no editing, no changes, just thoughts. Placing it gently back into the drawer, she slouched back on the chair, her hands dangling between her thighs. Her eyes went to the bed, she was tired, there was no denying that, but she just _couldn't _sleep—not for long, anyway. She wanted nothing more but to lay on the bed and sleep. But the warmth of it had left her, and now it just ached.

Eventually, she walked over to the bed—almost zombie like—and she dropped down on it, waiting as the mattress stopped bouncing. Her eyes fluttered close, and she sank into a deep, but restless sleep.

The light blinded her when she woke, and when they adjusted, she saw Lucy beside her, gnawing on a pen, looking down at some papers in front of her. Lucy pushed her glasses up and blew away some stray hairs from her eyes. Lucy didn't _need _the glasses; really, it was only to make her look and feel smarter. Her own little placebo effect, as she liked to describe it.

"Tell me why you're sitting on my bed at, what?" Annie's eyes squinted at the clock. "Eight in the morni—holy shit, why didn't you wake me?"

"Figured you should sleep in a little longer. God knows you _need _more sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak—and I'm not weak. Again, why are you on my bed?" Her words were muffled by the fact that Annie's mouth was snuggled into the pillow as she tried to hide her face.

"I wanted to talk some stuff over with you, but you were still asleep. I figured it would be good for me to review some of the stuff before you wake up."

"I _do _have a desk, you know?" Annie growled. "Like,"—she pointed to her table, her eyes were like slits—"over there, and not _here _in my _bed, _where I _sleep_ instead of _work._"

"Yeah, that would've made more sense." Lucy drew in a sharp breath before shrugging and hitting Annie's shoulder blade. Groaning, she rose and leaned on the headboard, bringing the covers up.

"I still wonder why I made you my second. It's beyond me, now, truly. Maybe I should've got Luke be mine—he wouldn't have woken me from my slumber."

"Oh, God," Lucy waved her hand around. "Luke would just sit around and do nothing all day—useless."

"That's _exactly _what I meant."

"You _love _me," she giggled like a child would. "Besides, I'm older, and _so _much wiser."

Annie cocked her head to the side. "Older? Yeah. Wiser?" She paused, and they both giggled. It was nice to laugh again. "Right," Annie rubbed her red nose. "What's on today's agenda, eh?"

Lucy nodded, directing her attention back to the papers. Her head moved so quickly that the glasses almost flew down her nose, but she caught it, and pushed it back up, gnawing on her pen once again. "Firstly, we have to figure out what we're going to do about winter—and yeah, I know, winter isn't coming for a while, but we have to be prepared for it. Secondly, we have to send a team off to get those guns and ammo. Thirdly—" _Jesus Christ, when will this end? _"—we'll have to figure out what to do with the meds you found. We could sell them independently, or we could keep them, or we could trade some with another group. And _finally, _we have to snoop around and ask about Mitchell. It's his last day, right?" Annie nodded; chewing her lip as she remembered the moment they had a few hours before. Noticing her expression, Lucy asked what she was thinking.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I just forgot about him for a bit." _Liar._

"Psh, with a face like this, it's pretty damn hard to forget about him. I mean, _damn, _you know?"

"What?" Annie smiled.

"You know, he's got one of those faces that you just wanna—"

"He's got _one of those faces_?" Annie said. Lucy shrugged, pouting, and Annie continued. "Anyway, I don't know about him. He might be a distraction to the girls and well, _you_."

"Ah, pish-posh!" Lucy waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head. Her glasses fell again, so she pushed them up. "I don't go for younger guys, anyway. If you think he's going to be a distraction, then don't bring in him—it's your choice. You're the boss, babe."

"_You're _supposed to be advising me." Annie whined, looking up to the celling.

"You already know what my answer's going to be. If you're still conflicted, then ask around later today. See what everyone thinks of him, and make your decision from there—_that's _me advising, happy?"

"I suppose you're right."

"Damn bloody straight." Lucy mumbled.

It seemed to have blurted out, and she regretted even _mentioning _it. "Do you think I'm a shit leader? And be honest."

Lucy's head snapped towards Annie, cocking to one side as if she asked what one plus one was. Lucy shook her head. "You're _not _a shit leader, Annie. Where are you getting these ridiculous ideas from?"

"I was just thinking, y'know?"

"Your mind, as smart as you think it is, can be your worst bloody enemy. What you're going through right now is, like, some sort of emotional trauma that's mixed in with your grief and natural insecurity. You've put yourself in this shit headspace in which you keep bashing yourself for _trying. _You're _not _a shit leader, and if you were, I would've smacked you in the face a few times and made you get your shit together. He would be proud of you—so _bloody _proud of you. And you've got everyone here who loves and supports you more than anything else. They could've picked someone else to lead, but they chose you, and for a reason." Lucy paused, eyeing her friend. "Look," she said, putting the papers aside. "Go have a shower and I'll meet you in the mess."

Lucy gathered her things and swiftly left. Annie saw, through the window, that Rhys was next to her, chattering away as he absently ran a hand through his bed hair. Annie shook her head, smiling at the thought of them together before hitting the showers.

Lucy, like promised, was sitting on a bench in the mess. Papers were scattered across it, and her eyes scanned through all of them carefully. She was gnawing at her pen again. _No wonder she keeps ruining her pens. _Annie's stomach growled, so she walked to the counter and grabbed a banana and a bottle of water.

Annie sat down beside Lucy as she peeled the skin off her banana. That would have to last her the day, or at least a few hours—_stupid rations. _But she wasn't eating much nowadays, anyway, rations or not.

"Where should we head first?" Annie asked, taking a bite.

"Rhys, I guess, his isn't as dire as the rest."

"Oh yeah, I saw you two talking when you left my house. He seemed nervous."

"Nervous?" Lucy squinted, but shook her head. "Nah, he was asking about getting some scraps from a nearby junk heap. He needs to fix some of the stuff in the control room—nothing too fancy, he says."

"Bloody hell," she muttered. "I thought he fixed it a month or two ago?"

"He did too, but it wasn't enough. He missed something, and that's what he needs. That's Rhys for you, eh?"

"Yeah. I guess we should head off to him now."

Lucy gathered her papers and clipped them on her clipboard. Having it tucked professionally underneath her armpit, they walked to the end of the _C Wing _and to the elevator which leads to the control room.

It was a rusty old thing which had been serving them well. Wendy didn't look like much, but she was the only elevator they needed. The name was, of course, Rhys' idea. He claimed that it was his domain, so he should name it. There was no point in arguing with the guy—he would always get his way one way or another. They stepped inside and waited as it creaked up to the top. When it opened, they saw Rhys slouching on his little red chair, spinning left and right as he threw a ball into the air, then catching it, then doing it all over again. He sang a little tune but stopped when the girls marched over, taking their seats beside him.

He gulped, his hand on his chest. "Holy mother of Christ himself!" he breathed out. "You almost scared the living shite out of me."

"Working hard or hardly working, am I right?" Annie said, and Lucy snorted.

"What can I do for you ladies?"

It was as if a switch was flicked in Lucy's mind as she went from playful, to professional and serious. _She should be running the place. I just follow behind and sign the wordy papers. _Pushing aside the negativity, she focused on the conversation.

"We were coming back about the repairs and scraps. What kind of stuff do you have in mind?"

"Nothing special, really," he shrugged. "Just bits and bobs that I could use to improve some of our equipment—efficiency is the _key_."

"Do you know what it looks like?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah, I do. We could send some folks down to the junk yard and I'll tell them what the stuff looks like. That _is _if the place hasn't been cleared out yet."

"That seems good. Annie?" Lucy and Rhys were both looking at her.

She blinked. "Um, yeah, that seems fine. We'll send some people over now." Annie leant forward into the controls and pressed a button. She grabbed the microphone and spoke.

"Could Peter and Ryan come up to the control room as soon as possible? I repeat: Peter and Ryan to the control room ASAP. Thank you." Annie handed the microphone over to Rhys who nodded, breathing in heavily.

"That what you wanted?" Annie asked, and he nodded again.

"I guess we're done here, don't you think?" Annie swiftly got up and walked to the elevator, pressing the button. She turned back to Lucy, moving her finger towards her. Lucy collected her things and rushed towards her as the doors opened. Just before the door closed, Annie saw Rhys sigh heavily, pushing his hair up.

The rest of the day wasn't _too _hard, she finally got her pace and energy back as she sorted out the winter problem, and striking a deal between their sector and the _Rega Sector_—44 would give some of their meds to _Rega, _and in return, _Rega _would give them food and water, and if need be, vice versa. Next on the list: deal with Mitchell.

They went around the entire camp, asking everyone about their opinion of Mitchell. It was more or less the same stuff; he was a nice guy who pulled his weight, he was good with the kids, he was good with sorting guns and giving out food. That was all they needed for the snooping, so they stopped.

Last on the list: get the guns and ammo from the house. Annie decided to send Yannick, James, Andrea and Mitchell there. Annie was going to come with because a) she knew where it was and b) she needed to see Mitchell at work for herself.

The other three were ahead, so Mitchell and Annie were lingering behind, walking in silence. The three talked among themselves, but Annie wasn't paying attention to it. Instead, she was eyeing Mitchell. It was supposed to be sneaky, but it wasn't—she must've looked like some psycho or something.

He side-eyed her for a moment before speaking up.

"What're you looking at?" he asked. "Is this another one of your _examinations, _because personally, I'm feeling a little violated over here." He was smiling down at her, and she looked away, a smile threatening on her lips, but she didn't want to smile.

"I wanted to see how you were."

"By watching me from afar?" He snorted. "A simple, 'Hey Mitchell, how are you this _fine _evening?' could've sufficed."

"Shut up."

"That isn't very leader-y of you, Annie." He pouted. She hit him on the arm, and he yelped. The three ahead stopped and looked back, confused, but Annie waved her hand, and they continued walking.

"Are you _trying _to piss me off?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I might I have a place here! I can't go around, pissing you off, putting my future at risk! Oh, the _horror_!" _What a drama queen. _

They walked a little further in silence before Annie began to talk again. "Who were you wish before? Why did you leave them? Why did you pick us out of _everyone _else?"

He sighed. "Jesus Christ, if I knew this would be an interrogation, I would've thought twice before coming with you on your little fetch quest."

"Either way, you wouldn't have had any choice." She said, not looking at him. His head moved to look at her, and he smiled, shaking his head. "Now, answer my questions, _please_."

His finger traced his gun. "The group I was with last was wiped out—well, sort of. I was in a group with people, and we were trying to look for survivors, or was it salvage? I can't remember, but that doesn't matter—but it was on a ship. So, about ten minutes into it, we got surrounded. Almost every exit and path was covered by them. Everyone else died, and I survived. I couldn't go back to them; I knew what they would've thought."

"What would they've thought?"

"They would've _thought _that _I _killed them. They never really trusted me fully; anyway, something about me irked them. With the sudden wave of human on human attacks from the bandits and rebels, they would've jumped to conclusions."

"And that's when you found us?" she asked.

"And that's when I found you."

"Who killed everyone, though? Was it the zombies or was it bandits?"

He chuckled sadly. "Both. The bandits didn't seem to care; they knew they could clear them off easily. More of a human attack than a zombie attack."

"Shit."

"_Shit _indeed."

Annie kept quiet until they arrived at the house. She figured that would've been best, and even when he was telling her the story, it seemed painful. And she wanted to spare him the pain of remembering.

Yannick opened the door and everyone went inside. Andrea's eyes scanned through the open area. She rubbed her nose and asked: "Where's the stuff at?"

"Upstairs bedroom—follow me." Annie trotted up the stairs and went to the bedroom. Annie pressed the door, and it creaked open, unveiling the mother-load. They were hit with awe, their eyes gleamed.

"Holy mother," said James, chuckling proudly. "Good work, Sawyer."

"Okay," Annie smacked her lips, stepping inside. "Everyone tuck as much as you can carry in your packs, then each of us will hold a box, alright?"

"Aye, ma'am." Andrea muttered.

They were all careful and slow when they were descending the stairs; it was hard for them to see where their feet were going, but they got it. When everyone was ready, they left the house and made back to camp.

It was getting darker and darker as they walked. It was a slow walk, but they couldn't go any faster—those boxes weighed a tonne. The three were up ahead again, muttering between each-other. It took everything within Annie to _not _talk about his past again. She didn't know _why _she was so curious, or why she pried so much, but she managed to keep the urge under check for the remainder of the journey.

"Well, look who's _finally _back?" Tony smiled from above as the gates began to open. Ignoring that, they all headed inside and to the weapons room to drop everything off. When they did, Annie rubbed her hands.

"Tomorrow we'll come back and sort it all out, yeah? You guys did well today—thanks for coming up and helping. Have your dinner, and sleep well. Goodnight." Annie smiled as Yannick, James and Andrea all bowed their heads and headed for the door. Mitchell joined behind them, but Annie stopped him before he could leave.

"_So _close," he muttered, turning around to face her.

"Could you close the door for me, please?"

He did, and then he walked to the wall and leaned on it with his arms crossed like he was some sheepish bad-boy from one of the bad American teen movies. "What can I do for you?" he asked, as if he was mimicking her when she tried to act professional.

"I wanted to talk to you about your position here at 44. Do you like it here?"

"Yeah. Most of them are really nice."

"_Most?_"

"Mainly the guys," he held back a smile, she could see, and his mouth twisted as evidence of it. "They think I'm stealing their women—ridiculous."

Annie bit her lip, raising her brow. "And are you?"

He shrugged, the sides of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. "Some have caught my eye—some more than others."

Annie huffed, ignoring the odd feeling swelling in her stomach. Annie licked her lips and began talking again. "According to my little spies,"—his eyes lit up when she said _spies, _and she found that amusing—"you're quite the keeper. I guess I should it's time to say welcome to the clan!" Annie waved her hands around big in celebration, she cheered, too. He bit back another smile as he pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer to her and extending his hand out.

"Now that I've been accepted, does that mean I can start calling you _master _and kiss your benevolent arse?" he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't push it, _leprechaun._" Annie said, tightening her grip on his hand.

_I think he's going to be okay here. _


End file.
